Waiting with Tobey
by SoupTea
Summary: Tobey would always be the last one to get picked up. Then one day, he saw her waiting by herself.


It never occurred to her that Tobey was the last one to be picked up. After the school bell rings, the kids would head straight to their parents' waiting cars. Becky, Violet, and Scoops would part ways until tomorrow. Her dad would be waiting for her, face alight with enthusiasm for whatever concoction he's planning for dinner.

Once, when her dad was running late in the traffic jam, Tobey approached her. He began with his usual bragging and exasperation at the impudence of the academic standards at primary schools. Then he moved on with teasing her, laced with the hidden compliments about her brains, her love for words, and eerie similarity to Wordgirl.

She returned it, of course. Soon, whenever her dad would be running late, they'd fall into a routine of teasing and compliments. Tobey would approach her, sit down on the other side of the bench, and introduce himself with a dramatic flourish. Then he'd watched as her dad pulled up, that sly grin on his face as he promised of their next reunion.

And when she turned back, she still saw him standing in the school grounds. In the bright afternoon light, his lone, waving hands became absorbed into the distance.

"You're hanging out with Tobey a lot, recently," her dad said.

"It's just after school, dad."

"He's lucky to have a friend like you, Becky." And he chuckled. "I don't see him playing with any other kids. Just look how happy he is whenever he talks to you."

Becky stared into her hands. She'd memorized each line that meandered across her palms.

When their meet-ups became more and more consistent, the other kids started to whisper. Violet came to confront her once, to which Becky denied vehemently. Tobey firmly stated that he simply enjoyed a nice chat with Becky now and then, without simpletons interrupting them.

"I'm simply checking to see that my rival hasn't bested me," Tobey would huff.

Her dad seemed to have a hidden agenda. Becky could see the baby-blue hood of the buggy peeking from the trees as soon as the bell rings, but her dad always waited a bit before picking her up.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, honey," he'd said once she pointed him out on it.

Tobey was actually quite pleasant to talk to, outside of his usual boasting and threats to destroy the city. He once brought her his blueprints to build a Kitchen Robot. He asked her—sheepishly—if there were any good recipes to recommend. Her dad was more than ecstatic when she asked for a copy of the Botsford family recipes.

"The only good point about you, Becky, is that you don't fall within common boundaries."

She smirked. "Is that supposed to be a compliment, McCallister?"

And he would chuckle and shrug. He returned the recipe book to her a week later.

"I'm glad you liked it, Tobey," her dad said. "If there's anything you want, I'll make Becky bring it to you."

"I'll be sure to keep that in consideration, Mister Botsford." Tobey had that smirk on his face, but there was nothing mean about it. Becky rolled her eyes. And then the car rolled off into the distance, leaving her the familiar sight of his waving hands.

"I appreciate you staying with Tobey, Becky," her mom said one night. "Clair's so busy with her work lately. All he could talk about is you. Every night," she added with a wink.

"I'm just being a good friend," Becky said.

"Becky likes Tobey!" T.J. sang.

"I do not!" She glared at Bob, who stopped singing and slid down beside her with a weak grin.

* * *

When they would have their routine fights as Wordgirl and his robots, Tobey accepted his losses graciously. In fact, he seemed almost giddy when she began lecturing him about his motives.

"Oh. Wordgirl! How awfully convenient of you to stop by!"

"You called me," she said flatly.

"Yes, yes. Well, since you're here, would you be interested in sampling my newest creation?" That's when the familiar smell of her father's curry mac-n-cheese assaulted her nostrils. Tobey shyly presented the Dutch oven with a small smile.

"What is that?" she said in disbelief. Bob, on the other hand, chirped happily.

"This is my own version of curry mac-n-cheese." His lips kept quivering in an effort to keep a straight face. "My Kitchen Robot had exceled past its practical boundaries to concoct this masterpiece. And… well… since you're so conveniently here, you have the honor of being the first to taste Theodore McCallister the Third's cooking!"

Wordgirl cringed at the smell. She was never a fan of her dad's creative creations. But the look on Tobey's face made her give in.

"This… is…unique."

"I know, right?" Tobey chirped. Captain Huggyface happily accepted the whole thing. "My friend gave me her family recipes. I tried my best to adhere to the directions, but alas, some of the writing was too incoherent."

Wordgirl cleared her throat. A flush of red tickled her cheeks. "She sounds like a good friend."

Tobey suddenly looked away. "Uh. Yeah."

"You should thank her. I think she'll appreciate it."

Tobey remained silent. Captain Huggyface gently elbowed her. "W-Well. Thanks for the food, Tobey. I'll see you later."

And she flew off, leaving him to his lonesome. She risked a glance back.

"Thank you, Wordgirl!" He was waving.

Somehow, the scene was painfully familiar.

* * *

"Is your dad late again, Botsford?" Tobey said, taking a seat beside her. The kids were staring at them again. "Oh, don't mind them. They're just being nosy."

"Um. He'll be here soon." Her eyes scan for the blue hummer. Probably stuck in traffic.

Tobey handed her his blueprints. "The Kitchen Robot's working perfectly," he says slowly, ignoring her surprised look. "I tried giving Wordgirl one of the recipes your father made."

"And…?" Becky said carefully.

He hesitated. "She loved it!"

Becky snorted despite herself. "Oh please. I doubt that."

"How would you know, _Becky_?"

"Uh… she told me. I'm good friends with Wordgirl."

She expected Tobey to continue prying. But he sat back, a lazy smile on his lips. "Yes, yes. I can see that. Everyone's your friend."

"What's that supposed to mean, Tobey?" A smile tugged at her lips.

"What's what supposed to mean?" He looked up with the most innocent shine in his eyes. "Your father is here, Botsford. Best go before it gets late, hmm? Gotta make time for all that homework." He swung his arm in mock excitement.

Becky snorted and gathered her things. Her dad poked his head out and waved.

"I shall see you later, Becky Botsford." Tobey trailed behind her. She even lagged behind a little to match pace. "And I shall see to it that I remain the better of our academic rivalry!"

"Sure, Tobey McCallister." She flashed him a smile. His eyes widened. "Look forward to it."

He was still waving as the car pulled away. Becky rummaged through her backpack and recognized a piece of paper that wasn't hers.

"I must've grabbed his blueprints by accident," she muttered. "Dad, Tobey—"

It was then she turned his blueprints over to see the familiar scrawl of his hand.

 _Next time my cooking will render you speechless!_

 _-Signed, Theodore McCallister the Third_

 _Evil Boy Genius & Rival _

"What is it, honey?"

"Um… Tobey told me to tell you that he said thank-you."

Her dad smiled at her from the rearview mirror. "Well, tell him he's most welcome."

At home, Bob would wonder about the framed blueprints on the wall. He'd just assumed Wordgirl took a fleeting interest in schematics.


End file.
